


Food For Thought

by BlameThePlotBunnies



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dinner, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 17:06:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1786633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlameThePlotBunnies/pseuds/BlameThePlotBunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever wondered what it looks like inside the heads of Oxford's dynamic duo? Well, assuming they're together (and dear me they really are!) then it might look a little like this...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food For Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Basically i wanted to see if i could write an entire fic in thoughts. I can. ;)

_James._ Robbie. 

* * *

 

_Gold glints in the sunshine. I like that glint of gold on his finger. It marks him out as mine for the whole world to see. They probably only get that he's taken, but I like to see it on him all the same. My Robbie. Wonder if he knows he's my world? His smile says he does. Wish I knew what he was thinking. So frustrating. Always know what he's thinking about the case._

 

He's staring at me again. Can't be that interesting surely. Not that much to look at these days. Not like him. He's too young for me. Used to worry me. Doesn't now. His face is youthful, but he's not. So old before his time. Can't be fair. Sometimes it's like he's older than me. Wonder why? Worried what he's seen to make him that way. Dread to imagine. Still. Mine now. Can make that all go away. Smile at him. He smiles back. Little things. Make it better.

 

_Came home early. His flat. Our home. Mine was never a home. Too cold, too plain. Lifeless. Like it better here. His couch. My guitar. Strum a few notes. Feels peaceful. Not perfect, because he's not home yet, but close. Sit up. Playing properly now. Lose myself in the music. Warm hands on my shoulders. Look up. His smile, so beautiful. Smile back. "Didn't hear you come in." Prop the guitar against the sofa. Turn round; kneel up. His face in my hands. Kiss him gently. Once. Twice. Don’t want to stop. Wanted this all day. Miss touching him when we're at work. He pulls away. Try to pull him back. He laughs. "One track mind, you." Yes, one track. Labelled 'ROBBIE' in big letters. Don't tell him that. Might laugh. Might make him sad. Don’t want to make him sad. He doesn't get it. Why do I want him? Daft old bugger. Why wouldn't I want him?_

 

Can hear him playing from down the hall, soft guitar music, all muffled out here. Can't wait to get inside. Feel impatient with the lock. Surely it doesn't really need to go all the way round twice. Once would do. Ah, that's better, door open. Step inside, quiet as I can, don't want him to notice me yet. Close the door again, gently, muffle it with a hand. He's on the sofa, love that look on his face. Blissed out, swept away. So beautiful, and mine too. How lucky am I? Ah, pet, if only you knew. Can’t resist laying my hands on him. Rub his shoulders. Nice and relaxed. Won't need a massage later. Might give him one anyway, if he'll let me. Like the way he purrs when it feels good. Smile at him. Pretty smile back. Love how he sets his guitar aside the second he knows I'm here, like it's been a distraction and I'm what he really wants. Kisses like it too. So young; so keen. Going to have to train him a bit. Old man. Won't be able to keep up with him forever. He laughs when I say it. Gentle though, not making fun. Love him for that. Should tell him. Won't though. Too pushy. Kiss him again. Show him instead. Stomach grumbling. James laughing. "Let's eat." He slides off the sofa. So easy for him. Knees complaining just watching him. Let him drag me into the kitchen. Lasagne in the oven. Smells good. Love having him here, just watching him dishing up. Knows where everything is. Belongs here. Completes it. Perfect.

 

_Look at that! He's staring at me for once. Looks chilled, sitting in that chair, tie undone; jacket gone; stockinged feet. One black, one grey. So Robbie. Hot though. Ouch. Dinner too. Must watch what I'm doing. Getting distracted. Could lead to serious injury. Plate of lasagne in his lap. Better ways to say 'I love you'. Plate dinner without further accident. Success! Challenge: plates to the table. Made that too. Much better if I stare at food. Less appetising. Not hard to do. Could stare at gourmet stuff. Would still be less hungry than looking at him._

 

Wanted to kiss his fingers when he burnt them. Would have lead somewhere though. Not in the kitchen. He would. Generation gap has a lot to answer for. Besides, too hungry. Burnt my mouth. Wonder if he wants to kiss it better? Gets me water instead. Makes me wait till it’s cooled a bit. Bless him. Tastes as good as it smells. Nice to come home to dinner waiting. Been a long time. Too many ready meals. Should learn to cook. James could teach me. Probably would. Just have to ask him. Maybe not though. Too nice a flat to burn down. Chuckling. James staring at me. Quizzical eyebrows, he's got. Have to explain it. Makes him grin too. Says he'll teach me. Won't let me burn anything down. Love him so.

 

_Dinner eaten. One of my better efforts. TV now. Snuggle up to him on the sofa. Warm. He's always warm. Mmm… Is like having my own storage heater. His arm round my shoulders. Cosy. Can hear his heart beating. Sleepy. TV show's boring. He won't want to miss it though. Eyes closing. Doze through it. Safe here. Always safe with him._

_Room's dark. TV's switched itself off. Not quiet though. Robbie snoring. Always does. Denies it too. Smiling now. Shift a little. Kiss his neck. Pulse point. Quick little licks. Always gets him going. Old man my arse. He's stirring now; holds me tighter, murmuring. Kiss him again; watch him wake. Eyes open now, looking at me. Pupils blown wide. - Yeah, know you like that. - Do it again; touch him now. Hand on his chest, pop a button; hand inside his shirt. Stroke his downy chest. Catch a nipple; hear him gasp. His eyes. Lust; love; need. Needs me. Want him. Hand out of shirt again. Stroke his belly now, making for his belt. Little whimper. - Yeah, I know, need you too. - Kiss his neck again. His hand stroking down my side; resting on my hip. Little circles. Cup my arse. Nice. Like his touch. Need more though. Sleepy touches not enough. Sit up; climb into his lap. Feel him against me. - Mmm… - Rock a bit. Feels good. Too many clothes between though. His hands on my hips, tight. Is good. Not close enough though. Touch more; open his shirt. Bare skin, tanned dark; smattering of hair, disappearing below his belt. Lean forward; follow the trail with my tongue. He shivers; moves his hands up; tugging my t-shirt up. Arms up, help him. Belt undone. Button; zip, and - Oh! - his hands… **there**. Cupping me. Always gets straight to it. Should be used to it by now. Still a surprise though, that he would want to touch me there. Didn’t think he would. Kneel up over him. Easier to get trousers off. Mine and his. Go straight for his belt. Used to dream about this; wake up sweating. Still do. "Mine." Sounds like a growl. Not me surely? "James…" That voice says it is. His voice - Oh God! - goes straight **there**. Makes me pay attention. Boxers now. Both of us. Love being naked with him. Skin hot against mine. Better. Closer. Still want to crawl inside his skin. Rock against him; watch his face. Sparks behind my eyelids; gasping together. Companionable. Hot for him; he's hot for me. Still a novelty. Me. I did this. Only I get to see him this way - God, yes!  - sit up now. Want to do it properly. Lube? Jeans. Dammit. Can't find them. Groan. Want him. He grabs my hip, familiar tube in his other hand. Great minds. His fingers inside - Cold! - Ah. Better now. Nice. Yeah, there. Sparks behind my eyelids again, brighter this time. Not fingers now. Ow. Ah. Discomfort fading. Mmm. Perfect. His hands on my hips again. Knows I can come from this without a single touch from him anywhere el- God! Yes! Yes! - vision gone white at the edges. _

_Sleepy again now. Move off him; snuggle down against him again. Blanket off the back of the sofa over us; he tucks it round me properly. Puts his arm across my shoulders; lean my head on his chest. "The things you get me doing bonny lad…" He snorts "On the sofa fer Godsake!" Shaking his head. Smiling though; can’t help laughing. Laugh with him. Happy._

 

Shouldn't fall asleep on the sofa. Cheeky devil crept up on me. Nice though. Probably should've closed the curtains. Hope Mrs Across-the-road's out at bingo tonight. Definitely be getting a few disapproving looks if she's not. Probably thinks we're related; pretty young lad living with an old fart like me. Bet we broadened her horizons… serve her right, nosy old bat. Dozing now. Bonny lad's tired me out. Half an eye open. Looks tired himself. What's that? Oh, phone ringing. Landline. Not work then. Can’t be bothered. Open one eye. Maybe he'll answer it. Nope, he's asleep. Very good at pretending more like. Stretch and grab it. Lynn. Post-coital chat with daughter? No. Call her back tomorrow. Throw it on the side again. Poke James. "Oi. Bed." Obedient. Walks across the flat naked. Take a good look Mrs Across-the-road, he's mine! Grab boxers. Old habits. Too long with kids in the house. Lock the door; put the lights off; follow him to bed. Should brush my teeth; take a shower. Can't be bothered. Not enough energy left. Bed. He's still naked, laying on his side, duvet all rumpled. Curl round him. Always been the big spoon. Old habits again. Snuffle in his ear. Feel him squirm; hear him giggle. "Night night." Kiss the back of his neck. "Night Rob." Last thing I hear. Last thing I see. Last thought before sleep. James.


End file.
